


Dungeons & Dwarf Stars

by squirenonny



Series: Voltron: Duality [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (but also actual paranoia), (the game), Dungeons & Dragons in space, Gen, I mean it's Paranoia; there's gonna be a lot of PCs dying, Matt enables him, Meri (OC) GMs the Paranoia campaign, No actual character death though, Paranoia, Pidge is ruthless, Shiro is actually a little shit, Warning for death of PCs?, often in comical ways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-12-31 10:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12130050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squirenonny/pseuds/squirenonny
Summary: Just because you're fighting a war doesn't mean you don't need to unwind every now and then--and what better way to do that than by playing a game?(Or, The Paladins Play Paranoia.)





	Dungeons & Dwarf Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the Voltron: Duality series. If you've stumbled upon it without reading the rest of the series, Welcome! Here there be OCs. You should be fine to read this as a stand-alone, as the only major OC is the GM, Meri, and it doesn't reference big-picture plot too much. (Well, aside from the fact that Keith is full Galra in this series and grew up in the Empire.) I originally planned this to be a multi-chapter thing, but as it turns out I just don't have that kind of time. Enjoy it for what it is, or continue on to the next fic in the series!
> 
> So! If you're not familiar with Paranoia, reddit has a couple of great summaries [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/rpg/comments/4ccv0c/what_is_paranoia/?st=j80pb8s9&sh=5aef3342), but the short version: players are Troubleshooters (Find trouble. Shoot it.) in Alpha Complex, a dystopia run by Friend Computer. Unlike other tabletop RPGs, players aren't working together so much as actively looking for excuses to kill each other (don't worry, everyone starts with 5 extra clones ready to deploy when they meet their inevitable doom.) Oh, and the GM makes all the rolls, because why do you need to know if you just crit failed on your attempt to search a room for traps? :)

Lane is the first one into the briefing room—not so much by choice as because she’s too busy staring at her PDC to notice that her companions all stopped just before the threshold.

“Uh…” Shae glances to the others. “Lane...?”

“No, no,” Rove says, patting her shoulder just before he ducks behind her. “If she wants to be our trap-finder, more power to her.”

Shae hesitates.

In that instant, all six Troubleshooters hear the click of metal on metal and a _fwip_ of compressed air. Lane spins, but her foot catches on a chair. She topples—fortunately, as it turns out, as a dart splits the air above her head and snaps against the far wall.

“What the fudge was _that?_ ” Lane cries, leaping to her feet. She stumbles over the broken remnants of the folding chair, catches her balance, and raises her PDC as an impromptu shield as the far door slides open.

“ _Excellent_ reflexes, Troubleshooter. I see we chose the right team for this job.”

Doe barks out a single laugh, then claps a hand over their mouth. “Sorry, was that out loud?”

Lane rounds on them. “You got a problem, Moe?”

“It’s Doe, actually.” They blink slowly. “Doe-R-MAT.”

“ **Oh my god, Matt, _seriously?”_**

* * *

Matt grinned, basking in the groans that floated around the kitchen table. Some of them—notably Pidge and Hunk’s—were tinged bright with laughter. Lance, on the other hand, was staring at Matt like he’d just desecrated something holy.

“What?” Matt asked innocently. “This is _Paranoia_. I don’t know who you played with, but where I come from pun-based character names are practically a requirement.”

“He played with me,” Meri put in, rolling a d20 between her hands and leaning back in her chair. The players were all arranged around the table in Lance’s kitchen, Meri and Allura set up at the breakfast bar with all of Meri’s GM notes. “But to be fair, he might have been a little young to appreciate the puns. Especially since Sebastian’s were all based on obscure classical poets.”

Lance wrinkled his nose. “Is _that_ why he always sounded so stuffy?”

“And why Val sounded like the villain from a Saturday morning cartoon?” Meri asked. “Yup.”

“I feel so betrayed right now.” Lance crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Matt. “Mostly because you went for the obvious pun. If you’re going to pun, at least be clever about it.”

Snorting, Shiro leaned over and patted Matt’s shoulder. “Well _I_ think it’s clever.”

“You’re his boyfriend,” Pidge said. “You _have_ to say that.”

“Says the nerd who named their character _Rover_ ,” Lance drawled, raising a soda can to his lips.

“Okay, _Lane._ ” Pidge pushed their glasses up their nose. Never mind they didn’t need them—didn’t even have lenses in them. Now that Matt had his contacts again, he’d surrendered his old frames to his sibling for the aesthetic. “And it’s Rove-R-2.0, _thank you very much._ ”

“Is that even legal?” Keith asked. “I thought it was supposed to be name-clearance-three _letter_ home sector.”

Pidge cheered as Lance’s mother, Rosario, set down several bags of chips and two bowls of M&Ms. “Thanks, Mrs. Mendoza!” they said, snatching the Cheetos away as Matt reached for them. They stuck their tongue out at Matt, then turned back to Keith. “That’s what it’s supposed to be, but Friend Computer’s the glitchiest quiznakking computer you’ll ever meet.”

Lance gasped melodramatically, lurching back so violently he had to catch the edge of the table to keep from tipping his chair over. “Treason!” he shrieked. “Communist! Mutant! Traitor! Meri, I want to report them!”

Meri rolled her eyes as Pidge hurled a handful of M&Ms at Lance, protesting about out-of-character comments. Rosa was still hovering nearby, hands on her hips, narrowed eyes peering at Pidge like she was debating whether or not to lecture them for the use of the word _quiznakking_. She and her husband had a strict no-profanity rule around their house, at least when Luz and Mateo were home. They were upstairs playing video games with Val at the moment, but the rule still stood, and this wasn’t the first time one of the paladins had toed the line. Not all of them had Lance’s practice making up innocuous swears on the fly.

“Don’t bother,” Meri said, leaning over and dropping her voice low. “Pidge has a knack for making anything sound like a curse. Quiznak’s no worse than heck, honest to Altea.”

Rosa’s eyes slid sideways to Meri, then to Allura, who was valiantly attempting to hide her smile behind her hand. “Somehow,” Rosario said, “I don’t believe you.”

Meri put a hand over her heart. “Rosa. You can _trust_ me. Would I let an innocent child swear in my own mother tongue?”

Rosario sighed, then turned for the door. “I’m not going to answer that.”

“Smart woman.” Allura’s voice was soft enough that no one else heard over the ongoing debate at the table. (Shiro had just claimed to be a member of the Corpore Metal secret society—cyborgers—on the grounds of his prosthetic arm, which had Lance in stitches as he continued to shriek to Friend Computer about commie mutant traitors.)

Meri quietly pinched Allura’s arm, waved at Rosario’s retreating back, then drummed her hands on the counter top. The chatter quieted at once as all six players turned toward Meri. She stood, grabbing herself a handful of M&Ms, and leaned back against the counter.

“All right,” she said. “There’ll be plenty of time to shoot each other for being traitors in-game. So does anyone else have a question, or shall we get to it?”

Lance raised one finger. “Yeah, I’ve got a question. Hunk.”

“Yes.”

“Are you literally playing as Shay.”

Hunk flushed. “Shae-A-E, first. Second…no...?” He drew the word out, pushing his fingertips together. A small, smug smirk tugged at his lips. “I mean, her home sector is B-E-R, like _bear_ , like--”

Shiro, halfway through taking a drink, snorted, and a line of Pepsi trickled down his chin. He coughed, trapped between laughter and drowning on sugary carbonated goodness. “Share Bear?” he gasped when he could breathe once more. “Very nice.”

Lance whacked him on the head with a stack of napkins. “Don’t encourage him.”

With a snort, Matt snatched the napkins out of Lance’s hand and passed them to Shiro, who mopped up his mess. “Lance, have you _seen_ his character sheet?”

“Do I want to?”

“Holg,” Shiro said. “Holg-R-SON. Yes, like the Norwegian pilot.”

Lance moaned like a dying man and fell against Keith, who was eyeing a Cheeto like he thought it might turn against him. “Keith,” Lance said. “Keith, please. _Please_ tell me I’m not the only one at this table who isn’t a total dork.”

Keith arched an eyebrow. “Aren’t you one of the only people here who’s played this game before? I think you’re a dork by default.”

Lance’s mouth dropped open in shock and Pidge roared with laughter. “Ohh,” they crowed, raising their Mountain Dew high. “Get vrekt, Lance.”

Keith's smile dropped away and, twitching, he scowled at Pidge. “That's—You can’t— _Pidge._ ”

“Yes?”

“That’s not… That’s not how you _use_ that word.”

“Yeah, _Pidge_.” Lance snaked his hands around Keith’s shoulders, pulling him away from Pidge. “How _dare._ ”

Meri cleared her throat. “Okay, let’s recap. Going around the table—Pidge is playing Rove; he goes by Rover. Then Matt is Doe, they/them pronouns please. Shiro is Holg, Hunk is Shae, Lance is Lane, and Keith… didn’t have a name picked out last time we talked. Did you choose one yet?”

Keith shrugged. “Can’t I just be me?”

Lance leaned forward, peering over Keith’s shoulder at his character sheet. “Keith-R-RED. Oh, you poor thing.”

Keith bristled, his ears sloping backward. “What?” he growled.

“Nothing.” Lance held up his hands, trying to look innocent.

“You didn’t like the creative names.”

“Well… yeah...” Lance wrinkled his nose, choosing his words carefully. “But we have to be able to distinguish between you-the-player and you-the-character. At least go with Keef or something.”

Pidge ducked their head. “Keef-R-Sutherland?”

“ _Pidge!_ ”

Meri laughed, picked up the tablet she had her notes on, and tossed back her handful of M&Ms. “Yeah, I don’t think you can pass that one off as a glitch. Sorry, Pidge. Keef-R-RED works, though...?" She glanced at Keith who sighed, but nodded. "Cool. Now let’s get back to it.” She cleared her throat, then pitched her voice lower in her best imitation of Commander Iverson. “’All right. Welcome, Troubleshooters,’ your briefing officer says. ‘Sit down and shut up.’ The five of you join Lane inside the room, where there were once six chairs set up. The one Lane fell on top of is missing a few legs, but you _might_ be able to make it work if any of you want to try.”

A moment of silence passed, players trading appraising looks before Lance laid his hands on the table and quietly leaned forward. “I calmly, and with impressive dignity, pick myself up and sit in the next chair over.”

* * *

The motion breaks the spell that seems to have fallen over the group. Holg is the first the move, squeezing between Shae and Doe and scurrying in, his head ducked down between his shoulders. He sits next to Lane, and Doe sits next to him. Rover and Shae fill in the two surviving chairs in the back row, leaving Keef standing in the door.

Keef takes one look at the broken chair and sidesteps so he’s standing with his back against the wall.

The briefing officer, a middle aged man in a blue jumpsuit, crosses his arms and glares at Keef. “I said sit down.”

Keef stares back, unblinking, and sits right where he is, back against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him. The briefing officer purses his lips, then, after a long pause, he nods.

“That’ll do, soldier. Now.” He turns, pulling out a small remote, and the room’s lighting dims. With the click of a button a screen lights up, showing a still-frame image of a young woman in a Troubleshooter’s uniform.

“ **Is she pretty?”**

“ **Well, I’m a little bit biased, but I’d say yes.”**

* * *

Lance frowned. “Wait, what do you mean you’re biased?”

Meri glanced sideways at Allura, who smiled and wiggled her fingers.

“Allura’s our mission?” Pidge asked. “Cool.”

Meri nodded. “'A team of Troubleshooters went… let’s go with "missing." We know the Loyalty Officer, at least, survived. Your job is to find her, figure out if anyone else survived, and bring them all back in for debriefing. And… ah, hold on. Which one of you is the team leader?'”

At the table, every single head swiveled toward Shiro, who blinked, held up his hands, and spoke in the stammering, reedy voice he’d chosen for his character. “ _Me?_ No. No, no, no. You don’t want _me_ leading you. I-I-I’m not—I’m no one—I don’t have the right training for this.”

Pidge kicked their feet up on the table, giving Shiro a knowing look. “What’s this? Is our fearless leader shirking responsibilities?”

“Yes,” Shiro deadpanned. “This is _my_ escapist fantasy, I’ll shirk all the imaginary responsibility I darn well please.” He grabbed the barbecue chips from the center of the table, leaned back on the two back feet of his chair, and raised an eyebrow. “So—who wants to play leader today, kids?”

Lance slammed a hand down. “I’ll do it. I’m blue clearance anyway, and that means I outrank any of you sad lumps. Except you, Meri. Obviously.”

“You’re red clearance, same as the rest of us,” Keith said, then raised his voice as Lance started a rebuttal. “Lions don’t count, Lance! What ever happened to ‘we gotta distinguish between you-the-player and you-the-character’?” He waited, smirking, as Lance’s enthusiasm faded. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

“What, then, do _you_ want to be Team Leader?”

“No. _Vrekt_. Leave me out of the critical decision making, thanks.”

Meri casually reached behind her and rolled a d6. Seeing the result, she smiled.

* * *

“Shae!”

Shae jumps, eyes widening. “Y-yes, sir?”

The briefing officer strides forward and extends a small envelope toward her. Inside is a laminated card and a small blue pin. Shae drops the pin, yelping in alarm.

“Don’t be so skittish, soldier! That’s your TELECAR.”

“My what now?”

“TELECAR—Temporary Emblem of Limited Extended Clearance Above Regular. Make sure you keep the permit on you, mind, or someone might think you’re committing treason, wearing something above your clearance.”

Shae stares at the laminated card for a long moment, then bends down and cautiously picking up the blue pin. “Uh… yes sir. Sir? _Why_ do I have this?”

“You’re team leader, aren’t you?” The officer crosses his arms. “You’re going to have temporary blue clearance rights in matters relating to this mission, effective immediately.” He pulls out a blue file folder and hands it over.

* * *

Meri selected a file on her tablet and sent it to Hunk. “That’s the contents of the file folder. I’ll give you a minute to read it over before we—yes, Lance?”

Lance was staring at her, one eyebrow raised. “You did that out of spite.”

“Spite?” Meri splayed a hand across her chest. “Lance, the dice chose Hunk as team leader. You can blame that one on chance, my friend.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t going to make it blue clearance, were you?”

Meri smiled. “Of course I was, Lance. What do you take me for?” She paused, glancing down at her tablet. “And let’s just change that to _blue_ clearance in my notes...”

“ _I knew it!_ ”

“Uh….” Hunk looked up from his phone, visibly sweating. He glanced around the table. “Uh…. _Um.”_

Meri smiled to herself, then raised her tablet. “Want to send me a note? That’s a blanket statement for all of you, by the way. Any time you want to do something in secret or ask me a question the others don’t need to know about, shoot me a message. We can go out back if things are going to get complicated.” She gestured to the sliding glass door behind Hunk, which let out onto a patio. A small sandbox, a swing set, and a tree built for climbing dotted the thin yellow-green grass of the back yard.

Hunk nodded, seeming dazed. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s—A note’s probably a good idea.” He started typing, and Meri sat back, eyeing the rest of them. “While he’s doing that, let’s figure out team roles. Remember, we’ve got Loyalty Officer, Hygiene Officer, Happiness Officer, Equipment Guy, and the Communications and Recording Officer. If anyone has a preference, now’s the time to make your case.”

“I’m Equipment Guy!” Pidge cried.

Keith frowned. “That’s the guy who works with R&D, right? Cause my character actually _works_ with R &D.”

“ _I’m_ Equipment Guy, and I’ll bite anyone who tries to take that away from me.”

Shiro’s eyebrows twitched together. “Was that in character or out of character?”

“ _Both._ ”

Shiro raised his hands. “Fair enough. Holg is fine with either Comms or Hygiene.”

“Why those two?” Lance asked.

Shiro grinned. “Comms is a glorified camera man, which means I don’t have to take part in any battle, and Hygiene is the traditional slacker job.”

“By which he means no one in our old gaming group at the Garrison could remember who the Hygiene Officer even _was_ ,” Matt said. “I still say the Hygiene Officer can be _brutal._ ”

“Which is why you’re not getting it,” Shiro said.

“Hey, I wanted Comms anyway.”

Meri’s tablet chirped. She skimmed Hunk’s message, shot off a reply, and turned to Keith and Lance. “That leaves Loyalty and Happiness, unless one of you wants to challenge someone for their mandatory bonus duty?”

“I’ll take Loyalty,” Lance said. “Mostly because I want to see how Keith plays a Happiness Officer.”

Keith scowled. “Is that a challenge?”

“Heck yeah it is. You scared?”

“No! I’ll be the best damn Happiness Officer you’ve ever seen!”

“Dang,” Meri corrected on impulse.

Keith only rolled his eyes.

“Okay.” Hunk sat back, setting his phone face down on the table. “I think I’m done processing that. What did I miss?”

“Job assignments,” Lance said. “Shiro’s a slacker, Pidge and Rover both bite, and Keef is Happiness Officer.”

Hunk stared at Lance for a moment as though judging his sincerity. Once he’d determined that this wasn’t a joke, though, he took it in stride, nodding and stretching his hands over his head. “Okay, so we’re supposed to track down Allura.”

“Right. Her name is Rei. Rei-B-”

“Rei-BB-8,” Pidge said.

Meri snorted. “Not a valid name, but good try.”

Pidge pursed their lips. “Rei-B…. B-eight-question mark?”

Meri opened her mouth, then hesitated. “Sure, screw it. Rei-B-B8? is her name now. That’s canon.”

* * *

The rest of the briefing passes quickly. The blue-clearance officer outlines the situation for them—a standard mission, acceptable levels of violence, then a sudden loss of contact with all six Troubleshooters. Even Rei has remained unreachable, though the Computer identified her on security footage approximately one hour after after disaster befell her team.

Shae, as team leader, has been given additional details, including the last known location of Rei and her teammates, but as much of that information is blue clearance, she won’t be sharing it with the rest of the team. (“That’s fine though, isn’t it?” the briefing officer asks. “She points, you shoot—who needs to know all the pesky details of why?”)

They are left with one final admonition before the officer sends them off to R&D—whatever happened to this team of Troubleshooters, Rei is the only one who can give Friend Computer answers. Shae’s team is to bring her in, and they are to do it, ideally, without killing her or letting her be killed. Everyone knows how unreliable cross-clone memory retention is.

R&D is just a few hallways over, though the Troubleshooters realize too late that they didn’t actually get directions. Or an address.

“Hey, Keef,” Lane says. “You work at R&D, right?”

“Not in this sector.”

“But you work with them.” Lane checks her PDC, frowns, and puts it away. “Are you telling me you _don’t_ know where all of your service group’s locations are across all of Alpha Complex?”

Keef hesitates.

“ **Uh… _do_ I know where this place is?”**

“ **Let’s see… Heh. You sure think you do.”**

“Okay.” Keef squares his shoulders, looks around once, and nods. He’s pretty sure he recognizes this intersection, and he _thinks_ he remembers coming to an R &D office near here once before. He points down a hallway to the right. “This way.”

The other Troubleshooters fall in line behind him, and they make their way down the hallway. It quickly becomes apparent that this is _not_ the way to anywhere they want to go. The ceiling drops uncomfortably low, the lights flicker and buzz, and the walls are stained with something bright red that _probably_ isn't paint. Keef grimaces.

“What the hell happened here?”

Doe pokes at one of the stains on the walls, gags, and hastily wipes their finger on a discreet section of their jumpsuit. They turn toward Holg. “Hey, Hygiene Officer. This place doesn’t seem very clean.”

Holg’s eyes widened. “What? I mean—no? N-no, it’s not clean at all! What are you doing in there?”

“This is the way to R&D,” Doe says. “I think.”

Lane drapes herself over Holg’s shoulder, smiling. “Hey. Holg. You’re our Hygiene guy. What do you say you clean this place up for us before somebody ruins their uniform?”

“I-I don’t think… I mean… I’m not...” Holg tugs at his collar and finishes in a squeak. “That’s what scrub bots are for?”

“ **Okay, okay, I’m sorry, but I can’t be the only one who’s weirded the frickle-frack out that _Shiro_ is playing this character.”**

* * *

Shiro, to his credit, kept a straight face as Lance—red-faced from holding back laughter—glanced around the table for support. “ _Anyone?_ ”

“Yeah, no, I’m with you, buddy,” Hunk said. “It’s _weird._ ”

Shiro laughed—practically _giggled_ , which Meri thought was a stranger sight than him playing a nervous, indecisive character. He was practically gleeful about all this, and about the way Lance, Hunk, and now Pidge were staring at him like they’d never seen him before in their lives. Matt was nearly as amused as Shiro; clearly he’d seen this side of Shiro before, and Keith ignored them all in favor of sending Meri a message.

She read it, smiled, and reached for her dice, rolling twice.

“Well that’s interesting.”

Silence descended over the table, swift and satisfying. Meri would never get over the rush of power that came from commanding the total attention of her players. She waited just long enough for Lance to start fidgeting, then shot off a message to Shiro, who responded instantly, maintaining an impressive poker face. Meri rolled once more.

She looked up at her audience, crossed her arms, and said, “A swarm of scrub bots of _all_ clearance levels, ranging from infrared to ultraviolet, converges on your location from both directions. There have to be about three hundred of them—most about the size of a large rat, some larger. The biggest ones are… oh, yay high.” She held her hand up to her hip. “There _is_ space between them that you might be able to get by without being crushed or crushing something way above your clearance level, but it’ll be tricky. You’ve got about three seconds before the bots are upon you.”

* * *

For just an instant, everyone freezes. The bots approach with the sound of a thousand rattling screws, rasping along the floors and walls and creaking as they tumble over one another in an avalanche of metal and dingy microfiber.

Rover is the first to move, scrambling up Shae’s back and leaping from her shoulders for the vent set into the ceiling. His jump is poorly aimed—thanks in part to Shae lurching backward in surprise at a scrawny but not _especially_ short man climbing on top of her—and he barely manages to grab onto the grate. It promptly comes loose in Rover’s hands, dropping him back to the floor. Holg sees the opening in the ceiling and makes a break for it, stepping on Rover in his haste to get away.

While the two of them fight over the open vent, Keef backpedals, reaching for his holster, only to realize that none of them have been given weapons yet.

“We’re going to have to break through!” Doe cries. They glance at Keef, and then at Lane, who looks to Shae. “Ready?”

“Go!” Lane roars. She springs forward, angling for a pocket where red and black bots seem more concentrated. She makes it past a row or two before stumbling, wincing at the crunch of delicate machine parts under her heels. Keef fares better, finding a thin spot in the advancing horde and dancing through. He brushes up against a green clearance bot, but in the chaos no one notices.

Shae begins her charge, only to veer aside as she spots one of the larger bots, a yellow clearance bot that towers over most of the rest. Touching a finger to her blue TELECAR pin to remind herself that she (probably) is allowed to do this, she scrambles up onto the yellow scrub bot’s back and clings on for dear life, hoping to ride out the worst of the chaos.

That only leaves Doe, who takes one look at the sea of metal advancing from both sides, then turns back to Rover, grabbing him under the arms and tossing him up toward the vent. He yelps and flails, but manages to catch himself and scramble inside, clearing the way for Doe to hoist Holg up after him.

Precious seconds pass as Holg scrambles into the vent, and Doe waits below, their arms reaching up. “Uh… help?” they call.

Holg looks down at them, considering.

“ **Shiro, you asshole, you’d better help me up.”**

* * *

“Language, Mattie,” Shiro chided, digging through the bowl of M&Ms for a red one as Matt fumed at his side. He chewed, swallowed, and reached for his drink before glancing Meri’s way. “I help him up.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Matt said, elbowing him in the side as Meri asked Shiro for Holg’s Agility score--a whopping four. She rolled, then whistled.

“You manage it,” she said. “It’s not pretty, but you manage it. Below you, the bots converge on the red-stained hallway. The infrared bots take one look at the mess and back off, whirring in confusion over why they were sent here. Keef and Lane, you’ve made it past the swarm. There’s a trail of broken scrub bots behind Lane.”

“What color?” Lance asked, bracing himself.

Meri rolled. “One infrared, four red.” She smiled as Lance breathed a sigh of relief. “Shae, you manage to hold onto your mount, but it’s right in the thick of things, and it takes about five minutes for enough of the bots to disperse so that you can get down without stepping one somebody else. The rest of you come down out of the vents, I assume?”

Pidge glanced at Matt and Shiro. “I mean, we _could_ keep going up here.”

“You do that and I guarantee you aren’t making it to R&D,” Meri said sweetly. “At least make it to the _start_ of the mission before you split the party, please.”

Pidge huffed, but relented. “Fine. I climb down.”

“We all do,” Matt added, and Shiro nodded his agreement.

Meri smiled. “Good choice. Now, it’s been about half an hour since you left the briefing room at this point, and R&D is starting to get nervous. There are a lot of heads on the chopping block today, what with a blue clearance team going missing and all."

Hunk frowned. "So... why were we assigned to this mission, then?"

"Because all the higher ranked teams were mysteriously busy today," Meri said with a shrug. "Weird, right? Anyway, about the time Rover, Holg, and Doe climb down out of the vents, you all get a message on your PDC asking if everything’s all right and, eh, not-so-subtly reminding you where you’re supposed to be.”

“Is there an address included in this passive-aggressive text?” Lance asks hopefully.

“There is.”

“Awesome. Let’s go there.”

* * *

“A bot swarm?” the clerk at the R&D desk asks. “A _bot_ swarm!”

Shae scratches the back of her head. “Uh… yes?”

“Please. We haven’t had a bot swarm in this sector for almost a year! How do I know you’re not just making that up to cover for the fact that you stopped for coffee?”

Rover perks up at that. “Wait, this place has Starbucks?”

“Yes,” the clerk says. “It’s green clearance.”

“Awww.”

Lane pushes her way to the front. “Forget about the coffee, Rover. We didn’t stop for coffee and we _did_ have to deal with a bot swarm.”

The clerk stares at her for a long moment, then pulls a screen toward her. “You know every bot in Alpha Complex is tracked, right? If there was a swarm I think we’d have seen… huh.”

Lane leans forward, smiling at the clerk. “See something interesting?”

“A swarm.” She looks up. “You weren’t lying.”

“No. We weren’t.”

The clerk reads on, then gasps, staring at Lane and the others in horror. “You destroyed an _ultraviolet scrub bot?_ ”

Lane’s face falls. “We what, now?”

“You _destroyed_ \--” The clerk lurches back, her hands flying up to cover her face. “ _Ultraviolet clearance._ Do you have any idea how far over our heads that is? There are only five ultraviolet scrub bots in this entire sector! Each one is worth more than a red clearance citizen’s stipend for five years! Which one of you did this?”

Lane looks to the others. “I only mangled red and infrared bots. Guys?”

One by one, they all shake their heads, muttering denials. The clerk looks more and more alarmed with each shake of the head, as though the fact that they’re covering up the destruction of ultraviolet property is more concerning than the event itself.

“I think I should go get my supervisor,” she whispers. “This is _way_ above my clearance.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Shae steps forward, holding her hands up. “Come on, uh—sorry, miss, I didn’t catch your name.”

“ **Hunk, are you _flirting_ with this girl?”**

* * *

Hunk wrinkled his nose at Matt. “ _No._ I’m being nice.” He looked at Meri, his eyes silently asking whether she’d seen his note.

She nodded minutely, rolling a d20 between her palms. “The clerk blinks. ‘Um, I’m Ris?’”

“Shae,” Hunk said. “Now, come on, Ris. Is this really your job? We’re on important troubleshooter business here. All you have to do is equip us for our mission, and then we’re out of your hair. I’m sure we’ll figure out what happened with the bots when we debrief. What do you say?”

Meri twisted, dropping the d20 on the counter. “’Well, okay. I guess this is Troubleshooter business. I shouldn’t get involved.’ She slides the screen back to the edge of her station, then presses a button. A rack descends from the ceiling with six sets of weapons. Four of them are identical—a red energy pistol and a red gauntlet. The fifth set also has a red bandoleer with four pouches, and the last set is the same energy pistol and gauntlet as the rest, but in blue.”

“I guess that one’s mine, then?” Hunk says. “Since I’m the only one allowed to touch blue clearance weapons?”

Lance bit down hard on a potato chip. “ _Not_ fair,” he grumbled, then snatched up his phone and started typing. Meri didn’t even have to check her messages to know what he was telling her.

“And the set with the bandoleer?”

“Mine!” Pidge cried. “I’m the Equipment Guy, so I get the fun stuff from R&D, thank _you!_ ” They sang the last word, and Lance stuck his tongue out at them.

“All right.” Meri clicked over to another document on her tablet. “Pidge, you want to go through your bandoleer now?”

“No, I’ll wait until there aren’t as many eyes on me.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Of course you will.”

Meri smiled. “Okay, then. You all take your equipment and head out. You know the last known location of Rei’s team, if you want to head there?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Shiro.

* * *

“ **The train ride to your destination is uneventful—a rare blessing in the life of a Troubleshooter. You should try not to get too used to that.”**

Upon arrival, the Troubleshooters are greeted by… a whole lot of nothing. It’s a broad, open plaza, the lights set into the metal dome overhead bright and dazzling. A few tenement buildings line the plaza, windows dark and shuttered. Along one edge is a PLC distribution center, a small group of infrared workers bustling about a loading dock where a transport is being filled with crates and canisters.

Aside from the Troubleshooters and the workers, the plaza is empty. After some searching, Doe finds the last remnants of scorch marks—fresh and black and recently attacked by scrub bots.

“What do you think?” they ask, waving the others over. “Maybe whatever got the other Troubleshooters did this?”

Holg shuffles closer, making distressed noises. “That’s not very hygienic,” he mutters. “We should clean it. Where’s a bot when you need one?” He straightens, glancing around the empty plaza.

“No bots,” Lane snaps, clapping a hand over his mouth. “We’ll send some to finish cleaning _after_ we’re done here.”

“But--”

“Nope. Mission first.”

Holg scowls. “Hygiene _is_ my mission,” he mutters.

Rover ignores them both and crouches beside Doe. “Okay,” he says. “So there was a battle here. That doesn’t bode well for anyone surviving.”

**"Hang on, if they'd died, their next clones would have spat out, right?"**

**"Right."**

**"So... _Did_ any clones spit out?"**

**"Should have asked that in the briefing."**

**"Can I send a text _now_?"**

**"Sure.... The only response you get back is, 'That's classified information.'"**

**"Ugh. Hunk? Can _you_ ask?"**

**"Uh, sure. I ask the same question."**

**"Okay, sent you a note."**

**"And?"**

**"Uh... It's classified?"**

**"Goddamn it."**

“But Rei _did_ survive,” Shae points out. “We know she did.”

“So… she’s a traitor?” Keef suggests.

Lane whips around, forgetting all about Holg, who pulls out his PDC and begins sending in a scrub bot requisition form. “Woah, now,” she says. “Careful where you’re aiming those accusations, Keef. She’s a _blue_ citizen—way higher than us. High enough to get an inquisition, probably. You accuse her of treason and turn out to be wrong they’ll terminate your whole clone line.”

“Wait, really?” Shae squeaks. “Are you _serious_?”

“Um...”

“ **Yeah, that’s a reasonable assumption to make.”**

“Yes,” Lane says. “One hundred percent serious. Absolutely.”

Shae grimaces. “Lovely.”

* * *

“So, wait,” Pidge said. “Is that all we find?”

“In the plaza? Yes. You can check the surrounding tenements or the alleys, or you can talk to the workers at the loading dock.” Meri put one finger on a d20 and smiled innocently. “Anyone want to try their luck?”

Hunk drummed his fingers on the table, then reached for his phone. “I’ll go talk to the dock workers, but give me a second. I need to write you a note.”

“Okay. And the rest of you?”

“I’ll go with Hunk,” Lance said, “but I need to write you a note, too.”

Hunk looked up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at Lance. “Why do I get the sudden feeling I can’t trust you?”

Lance gasped, hugging his phone to his chest. “Hunk. Buddy. I’m your best friend. Would I ever do anything to hurt you?”

“No,” said Hunk. “But Lane would absolutely sacrifice Shae for nefarious commie mutant traitor plots.”

For a moment, Lance tried to keep a straight face, but that was clearly too much to ask. He broke out into a smile, ducked his head, and lifted his phone almost to his nose, typing furiously.

Meri turned to Allura, breathing deeply. “You hear that? That’s the sound of friends turning on each other.”

“You’re horrible,” Allura said, crossing her legs at the ankles.

“All GMs are.” Meri clapped her hands once. “There’s still four of you. Where are you going?”

Pidge looked toward Keith. “Investigate the alley with me?”

“Uh... Sure?" Keith said. "I guess that’s fine?”

“And we’ll take the tenements,” Matt said, elbowing Shiro. “That work for you?”

Shiro shrugged. “That’s a decision I don’t have to make, so absolutely.”

“Cool.” Pidge reached for their phone just as Hunk put his down, and Matt squinted at them.

“You’re scheming with Keith, aren’t you?” he asked.

They smiled. “Scheming? Me?” They hit Send with a flourish, and Meri glanced down at her tablet as the message came in.

She snorted, forwarding the message to Keith, who jumped, stared at his tablet, and then looked up at Pidge. They wiggled their fingers, and Matt sighed.

Blinking slowly, Keith sent a message back and Meri, grinning, passed it along to Pidge.

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “They’re conspiring.” He reached for his own tablet and arched an eyebrow at Matt. “Are you feeling left out? Because I feel a little bit left out.”

“And I’m thinking we need to do this one pair at a time,” Meri said, sending out a rapid-fire series of responses as she talked. “Hunk, Lance, you’re talking to the infrared workers. What are you asking them?”

“You know.” Hunk gestured broadly. “Do they remember the last troubleshooters who came through here? Did any of them see what happened?”

Meri nodded, searching for a character voice. “’Yeah. Yeah, I think I do remember something like that,’ one of them says. ‘Bunch of folks in blue? Bunch of explosions?’”

“Yeah! And? What happened?”

“’I dunno. We all hid as soon as the fighting started.’”

Hunk frowned, pulling his character sheet over. “And that’s all I get out of her? Could I try and get this person talking more with—it’s not Persuasion here, is it—um, Moxie? I’ve got a fourteen in that.”

“Okay.” Meri rolled a die. “He’s so flustered by being on the receiving end of your undivided attention that he loses track of your questions and asks if he can have your number. You know. In case he remembers something.”

“Oh, my god.” Hunk slumped forward, his forehead resting on the table.

Lance patted his back. “Relax, Hunk. I’ve got this. Who’m I talking to right now? Same person? No—no, he’s too busy flirting with Shae. I find someone else and charm her into telling me what we need to know.”

Meri arched an eyebrow. “You wanna use a skill for that?”

“Sure. It’s called my mouth.” He cleared his throat, leaning one elbow on the table in what he no doubt thought was a dashing posture. “Hey there pretty lady, how’s life treating you?”

“She says, ‘I work in a distribution center, packing trucks twelve hours a day. How do you _think_ life’s treating me?’”

Lance’s face fell, but he buckled down, dropping his voice even lower. “Well, hey, you ever think about becoming a Troubleshooter? It’s a real glamorous lifestyle, let me tell you. I could put in a good word for you if you can help me out.”

“She can’t.” Meri spread her arms, her voice going dry. “She’s charmed. So charmed. Head over heels. But she was hiding inside with the rest of these workers. They just didn’t see anything. The Troubleshooters were here, and then there was a battle.”

“Ah, but was anyone _else_ here?” Lance folded his hands, pointing both index fingers at Meri.

She smiled. “No,” she said. “They only saw the six Troubleshooters.”

Hunk lifted his head up off the table. “Wait, really?”

Meri nodded. “Let’s jump over to Pidge and—actually, no. That’s going to have to be a private scene. You’ve got too much going on that can’t be general knowledge. Let’s deal with Matt and Shiro first.” She turned to them. “So.”

Allura reached under the table to tap Meri’s knee. Meri glanced at her, then down at her tablet. Allura had sent a message—a short, simple, _I shoot Doe._

Meri laughed. “Matt, what are your scores for High Alert and Agility?”

Matt cursed. “Ahh—six and eight?”

Meri rolled twice. “Yeah…. You lead the way into the tenement building, and the second you walk through the door, you get shot.”

“ _What?”_ Matt snatched up his phone. “Hang on, give me a second here before you just _kill_ me.”

With a bland, smile, Meri snagged the bag of Cheetos sitting in front of him and took them back to the counter. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You take all the time you need.”

Matt muttered under his breath, but quickly finished his note and sent it off, which demanded not only a response, but a message for Shiro, as well. There was a brief flurry of activity, and Meri didn't think she entirely managed to keep her devious grin off her face.

“Okay,” Meri said, once the frantic sound of digital keyboards quieted. “We good? Good.”

* * *

Doe drops the second they walk through the door. They scream once, feebly, like the breath has suddenly been ripped from their lips, and when they hit the floor they don’t move. Holg stares at them in horror for an instant, but a flash of movement at the end of the hall catches his eye. A woman in a blue Troubleshooter uniform stands there, gun in hand. It’s Rei—the very woman they were sent to find.

For an instant, they stare at each other. Then Rei turns and bolts out of sight around the corner.

Holg drops to his knees beside Doe, searching for a pulse even as he fumbles for his communicator. “Mayday, mayday!” he shouts to the rest of the team. “I—oh, dear. Oh dear! This is bad.”

“What’s bad?” Keef demands. “What happened?”

“R-Rei,” Holg says. “It was Rei. I think she killed Doe. Oh, dear. Friend Computer, protect us!”

The sounds of running footsteps echo over the comms as the others come charging toward the tenement building. Holg turns Doe over, watching for any signs of life, but there’s nothing. He doesn't know what to do.

“Holg!” Lane cries. “Where is Rei now?”

“She-she ran. I don’t know where--”

“Follow her!” Lane curses. “Don’t just sit there waiting for us. See where she’s going!”

Holg blanches. “Who, _me?_ ”

“Do you see anyone _else_ in a position to chase after our target?”

“But--”

“Just _do it_ , Holg!” Shae roars.

“O-okay...” Holg staggers to his feet, draws his pistol, and holds it before him in shaking hands as he takes off down the corridor in pursuit of the target.

* * *

“And I think that’s where we’re gonna end it,” Meri said, smiling at Rosa as she poked her head into the kitchen. “Dinnertime?”

“Should be here in about ten minutes,” Rosa said.

“Perfect.” Meri flipped the cover shut on her tablet and hopped down from her seat. “That gives us just enough time to run this scene with Keef and Rover. If you want to join me outside?” She gestured toward the backyard, and Keith and Pidge followed after her. She tipped a salute toward the rest of them before closing the door. “Back in a tick.”

* * *

**Transcript: Conversation between Meri and Matt (Doe-R-MAT-1) from session 1**

**< November 3 17:42>**

**Matt:** Okay, when you say “shot,” does that mean fatally?

 **Meri:** No. You got shot in the shoulder. It hurts, and your aim’s gonna be off until you get it treated, but you’re not in any real danger.

 **Matt:** Perfect. I play dead.

 **Matt:** Simulate death.

 **Matt:** Whatever you want to call it. I’m using my mutant power.

 **Meri:** Perfect. How long do you want to go under?

 **Matt:** Until I’m alone?

 **Meri:** Okay. You hit the ground, and everything goes fuzzy as your body begins to shut down. You can still hear just enough to be able to tell if anyone nearby is talking or making noise, but you have trouble processing any of it. It’s just a wash of white noise and icy cold as you enter stasis.

**< 17:50>**

**Meri:** Something’s wrong. You’re entering stasis, just like you’ve done a few times before, but this is different. You’ve never felt like this before. It’s not… It’s deeper than you’ve ever gone. Your chest feels tight, almost to the point of pain, and it gets hard for you to think.

 **Matt:** Shit? Uh, can I make myself wake up?

 **Meri:** It’s already progressed too far. You rouse for a moment, just long enough to comprehend what’s happening. You think you might be dying, and you don’t know why. Then you don’t feel much of anything anymore.

 **Matt:** Well, fuck.

**< 18:09>**

**Meri:** One last thing before we call it a night.

 **Matt:** Yeah….?

 **Meri:** You wake up. You’re not sure how long you’ve been out, but you wake up on the floor of the tenement building where you got shot. You’re alone; the building is quiet, and there’s no sign of life. An infrared scrub bot is cleaning the floor nearby, and it spooks when you sit up. Your right shoulder is still injured, and it gives out when you try to push yourself to your feet, but it’s not life threatening. A quick tour of the building and a glance out at the plaza beyond shows no sign of the rest of your team. It seems they all assumed you died and moved on without you. You’ve got complete freedom, at least until they start to get suspicious that your new clone hasn’t been decanted.

 **Matt:** Sweeeeeet.

 **Meri:** Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city, you wake up.

 **Matt:** Wait, what?

 **Meri:** It’s a slow, muddy sort of awakening, and by the time you remember who you are you’re dressed in a fresh set of Troubleshooter coveralls with a PDC and an energy pistol, and you’re rushing through the pneumatic tubes that deliver fresh clones as close as possible to where they’re supposed to be. You remember getting shot, but it didn’t strike you as a particularly dangerous wound. You remember things getting fuzzy after that, but you don’t actually remember dying. (Then again, you’ve never died before. Not for real.) Apparently you did, though, because you’re on clone 2 now.

 **Matt:** Wait, WHAT?

 **Matt:** Hang on. I’ve used my power before, right? Does it do this? I thought it was like that stuff that slows your metabolism and drops your heart rate and stuff. Is that enough to decant a new clone? Wouldn’t I have figured that out by now?

 **Meri:** It’s never done this before, as far as you know. Actually, the one source you were able to find about the mutant power known as Death Simulation  _specifically_ said that it won’t fool the Computer.

 **Meri:** Not that it matters right now, because neither of your clones is at all aware of the other’s existence. Clone 1 thinks, okay, something weird happened, but I fake-died and woke up just like normal. Clone 2 thinks you actually died somehow.

 **Meri:** But congrats! You now have two active clones~! Use them well.


End file.
